<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Ask his mind (ask his heart) by elareine</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24702595">Ask his mind (ask his heart)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/elareine/pseuds/elareine'>elareine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blow Jobs, Character Study, Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die implied, Hand Jobs, M/M, Moral Dilemmas, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Pollen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:55:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,264</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24702595</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/elareine/pseuds/elareine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a mission, Anakin comes to Obi-Wan with need burning through his body.  </p><p>Obi-Wan has seen the devastating effect of this pollen before. He will not allow that to happen to Anakin.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Heat Fic Summer 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ask his mind (ask his heart)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/yujacheong/gifts">yujacheong</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I combined several of your lovely prompts. Enjoy :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Obi-Wan Kenobi is a man of many passions and impulses. </p><p>He’s learned to master them, of course. His mind and his heart must be in tandem. If one of the two protests, Obi-Wan listens, and then he lets the Force guide him. His lot is to be of service, and Obi-Wan has never wanted anything else. </p><p>Anger is not the enemy. It is a useful tool to recognize the injustices in the galaxy. </p><p>Fear is not the enemy. It shows him where to go so that he might face the dangers that he is better equipped to handle than others. </p><p>Sadness and grief are not his enemies. They honor what is lost. </p><p>Love is not the enemy. Without community, without bonds, where would humans be? </p><p>All these emotions are his friends, and he lets himself feel them, feel them deeply. It is just not the Jedi way—or in Obi-Wan’s nature—to let them rule him. </p><p>Sometimes, he imagines what that would be like. To be so embroiled in passion that he could let himself <em>want</em>. Desire, to him, is the one feeling he tries to ignore, because it leads to attachment, not love. </p><p>‘Ignore’ because he is not free from desire. </p><p>Which is why, when Anakin comes to him after their mission, burning and flushed, Obi-Wan dismisses him at first. High spirits, adrenaline and all that. </p><p>It’s weird, though. When Obi-Wan imagined Anakin finally making his move, he believed him to be smooth about it, confident, maybe even cocky. This is clumsy even for a man who has never known a relationship. </p><p>So he asks: “What are you doing?”</p><p>Anakin shakes his head, looking uncharacteristically unsure of himself even with his hands on Obi-Wan’s shoulders, pulling at his shirt. “I’m not sure.” </p><p>“Well.” Obi-Wan steps away. “I will speak with the Captain regarding our course, then. You should take this to your own quarters.” </p><p>Anakin does not leave, however. When Obi-Wan returns, he finds him curled up in his bed, pants down his hips and face buried in the pillow as he ruts against the bed. He makes a pretty picture, the very essence of helpless lust. </p><p>Instead of arousal, cold panic floods through Obi-Wan. </p><p>“Anakin. Were you dosed with something?” </p><p>The younger man does not seem to hear him, perhaps chooses not to. His hips are moving faster now, and Obi-Wan decides to wait for the inevitable. Only when Anakin has shuddered and spilled himself against the bedding does he ask again: “Were you dosed, Anakin? Tell me.” </p><p>It takes Anakin visible effort to turn around, to look at him with furrowed brows. He does not seem to be ashamed; that’s something, at least. “Mostly just gunk and debris. No chemicals.” </p><p>“Good, good,” Obi-Wan says inanely. “What about plants?” </p><p>“Just these vines. Red blossoms, no thorns, yellow spores.” Understanding dawns on Anakin’s flushed face. “Is that what’s happening?” </p><p>Oh, no. </p><p>Obi-Wan has seen the effect of this pollen before. The poor man had been raving by the end of it, driven into heat by an unfortunate side-effect of his biology reacting to the urge the pollen created. He never recovered. </p><p>Obi-Wan will not let that happen to Anakin. His urges must be satisfied. Remains the question of ‘how?’ or, more accurately, ‘who?’ </p><p>If this were any other Jedi, Obi-Wan would not hesitate to offer himself. He’s honest enough to admit that. Saving a life is imperative for a Jedi, and if there is some pleasure to be had from it, the better. </p><p>But it is Anakin. Obi-Wan cannot trust himself to judge the situation impartially. He loves Anakin, of course he does. He’s just not sure if his love is the right kind. His mind tells him to run, and even his heart is cautious. </p><p>Who else, then? </p><p>Another Jedi would be the obvious choice, but they are too far away. There are the clones or a member of the crew… </p><p>Something rises up in him, claws at his throat as he looks at his erstwhile apprentice, flushed with fever and panting. No one else should see Anakin like this. No one. </p><p>Obi-Wan recognizes his protective instincts for what they are. The feelings border on jealousy, but there is enough reason for Obi-Wan not to dismiss them. Anakin would not want to be touched by a stranger. </p><p>“Please,” Anakin whispers. </p><p>There is no universe in which Obi-Wan can deny him. </p><p>“Of course,” he tells him and curls his hand around Anakin’s dick. </p><p>Anakin throws his head back with a moan. One hand comes up as if searching for something, and Obi-Wan clasps it in his free one without thinking. Anakin’s grip is iron. </p><p>Obi-Wan cannot help looking down in fascination. He has, of course, seen Anakin’s cock many times before. It cannot be helped when you’re traveling and fighting together as much as the two of them are. This, though, is different. The head of Anakin’s dick just peeking out from Obi-Wan’s fist… that’s the kind of image a man won't forget. </p><p>Obi-Wan calls himself to order. He can do this. Let Anakin find his pleasure in his hand, give him the touch he seems to crave so much. There is no need to bare himself. It’s alright as long as he doesn’t find any pleasure in it, Obi-Wan bargains with himself. He wants this, so he needs to make doubly sure that he does not take advantage. </p><p>Not that this is lacking pleasure in any way. Anakin’s eyes are closed, now; his robotic hand is clutching the bedsheets, the flesh one holding on tight to Obi-Wan’s. He’s still flushed, a most fetching color. Little whimpers are leaving his mouth as his hips thrust into Obi-Wan’s grip. </p><p>It’s too dry, Obi-Wan realizes. Anakin must be so sensitive after his orgasm; the callouses on Obi-Wan’s fingers cannot feel good against the soft skin of his cock. </p><p>With a thought, the older Jedi summons some lubricant from the bathroom. </p><p>When he removes his hand from Anakin, the younger man’s eyes shoot open. “No, no, <em>no—”</em></p><p>“Shhh,” Obi-Wan soothes. He hastily covers his hand in the cool gel, though he does not dare to let it warm up, or use the Force in any other capacity during this endeavor. Anakin does not seem to mind, anyway; he just makes the most relieved sound when Obi-Wan starts stroking him again. “Here, that’s better, isn’t it?” </p><p>“Yes,” Anakin hisses and comes all over his hand. </p><p>“Good,” Obi-Wan murmurs, keeping up his gentle strokes. “Yes, good, just like that…” </p><p>Anakin’s orgasm is more drawn out this time. When he starts to whimper, Obi-Wan takes his hand away, but that just seems to make it worse. </p><p>Anakin’s grip on his hand has turned painful. Some clarity has returned to his gaze. </p><p>“I’m burning,” he says simply. </p><p>Obi-Wan considers the situation. Perhaps… if his hands are not enough anymore… </p><p>His body is moving before his brain has consciously issued the order. Arranging himself between Anakin’s legs is awkward; he’s half-lying, half-kneeling, hunched in a most unattractive way. However, the awe on Anakin’s face makes up for it.  </p><p>He does have the grasp of mind to take the sheet (it will have to be changed anyway, after) and wipe up some of the lube and cum. </p><p>Both Anakin’s hands are going into his hair, pulling him closer. Obi-Wan groans at the feeling—damn him, his hair had always been his weak spot. To shut himself up more than anything else, he swallows Anakin’s cock down and is rewarded by a yelp. </p><p>Anakin is warm in his mouth. When Obi-Wan moves his tongue, he tastes salty. There is no doubt that he has something alive in his mouth; he can feel Anakin’s heartbeat even as he hears him groan. Most overwhelmingly, Obi-Wan can smell him, musk and sweat and a strange sweetness, like burned honey. </p><p>It’s physical in a way things rarely are to Obi-Wan. He’s dimly aware that he’s hard himself—aching—but his focus narrows down Anakin, Anakin, Anakin—</p><p>He pulls back, tongues just under the weeping head, and Anakin’s whole body spasms, trying to pull him closer. If he could, Obi-Wan would smile. As it is, he brings his hands to Anakin’s hips and presses down, prevents him from choking him further. </p><p>Anakin groans. “Master—” </p><p>Obi-Wan hums and the groan turns into a whine, long and drawn out. </p><p>That’s Anakin spilling himself in his mouth, and oh, Obi-Wan never knew he wanted that so much. He feels dizzy, heat coursing through his veins in a way he has never felt before, and his hips twitch against the bedding; he’s so, so close—</p><p>No. It takes all the mental strength Obi-Wan possesses to stop, but stop he does. Even so, it takes several deeps breaths with his forehead pressed to Anakin’s hip before he can draw back and smile. </p><p>“Another round?” he asks, hoping to inject some levity. It’s disconcerting when Anakin is not up to quipping. And after all, the younger man is still hard, his cock a deep red and still spilling pre-cum (or maybe cum?) He gives it a teasing lick to accentuate the question. Perhaps he’ll let Anakin fuck his throat—</p><p>Strong hands pull him up. Before Obi-Wan knows what’s happening, he’s flat on his back, Anakin hovering over him. (Even now, his defenses don’t come up. Anakin won’t harm him.)</p><p>“No,” Anakin snarls, and Obi-Wan should be afraid, but instead, he is exhilarated. </p><p>“No?” he asks, voice too light for the situation. </p><p>“You’re mine.” Anakin states it as a fact. General Grievous has too many hands, most Wookies speak Shyriiwook, and Obi-Wan Kenobi belongs to Anakin Skywalker. It’s not an explanation, and it is.</p><p>Obi-Wan shudders, and it’s only partially because Anakin is pulling down his pants, baring his shamefully weeping cock to the other’s gaze. </p><p>“Mine,” Anakin says again, and then he brings their cocks together, wrapping them in his large hand. </p><p>Before he can process, never mind protest, Obi-Wan finds himself pushing into his grip. It causes delicious friction, helped by the way Anakin is still covered in spit and cum, and by the Force, that thought shouldn’t make Obi-Wan hotter, but it does. </p><p>It’s good. It’s so good. </p><p>Anakin is moving against him with a bizarre mixture of urgency and care. This is not a battlefield, not a negotiation or a bout of sparring; yet their bodies fit together as if they have done this a thousand times before, will do it a thousand times more. </p><p>Obi-Wan has lost control. He’s clutching Anakin’s shoulders, now, and instead of detangling himself, he’s just hanging on, as if they’re cast adrift in a storm and Anakin is his only anchor. </p><p>It was freeing in a way he’s afraid of acknowledging to himself. </p><p>“Master, I—” Anakin’s voice breaks; he buries his face in Obi-Wan’s shoulder and moans as if he’s falling apart. </p><p>Obi-Wan knows what he needs. “Yours, Anakin, yes, yours—”</p><p>Anakin gasps and comes against him, his hand tightening around their cocks. Obi-Wan can <em>feel</em> him spill over his own, feels him twitch and shudder against his cock and <em>mark him</em>, and it’s too much. </p><p>He might make a noise; he doesn’t know because a feeling sweeps over him and pulls him under, pure physical bliss accompanied by emotional release. His hips spasm, he’s almost rutting against Anakin, and then he’s coming, finally, finally coming. </p><p>Where Obi-Wan expected darkness, there is only light. </p><p>He floats on the feeling for a long, long time. </p><p>Gradually, awareness of the situation bleeds back in. Right, Anakin is still under the influence of the pollen. He won’t be satisfied just because Obi-Wan is. The poor boy must be going mad by now—</p><p>That’s when Obi-Wan opens his eyes and realizes that the warm weight on top of him is, in fact, Anakin, sleeping peacefully. Obi-Wan blinks. Brings a hand up to check the younger man’s temperature. </p><p>The fever has broken. </p><p>Obi-Wan would spend time wondering what was different about Anakin’s fourth (at least—he might’ve started before he came to Obi-Wan’s quarters) orgasm if it weren’t so pointless. It’s not Anakin’s orgasm that was decisive; it was Obi-Wan’s. </p><p>Pollen that was meant for procreation, adapted by the Dark Side for their own purposes. It makes sense that its effect only lessens when it has drawn another person in. Obi-Wan allows himself a few minutes of anger at that.</p><p>How dare they? Anakin and he—that’s never been a simple relationship, but it was <em>theirs</em> to figure out. Now there will always be that <em>what if</em> between them. </p><p>With a start, Obi-Wan realizes that he doesn’t know if Anakin will even remember this. Pushing aside his heartache at the idea, he forces himself to consider the question from a Sith’s point of view.</p><p>Which would be more insidious? If he would, or if he would not? Obi-Wan fears it may be the latter. Then again, that’s a subtle play even for the Dark Side. Perhaps they count on entrapping Jedi with the pollen, causing them to die or to carry guilt for the rest of their lives. </p><p>Either way, it will not change anything. Obi-Wan would not keep such a thing from Anakin. They will discuss this, and then they will find a way forward. This is either a gift, a reminder, or a test. </p><p>His heart is anxious at the thought of what this will do to Anakin, to him, to their future. His mind accepts that there is nothing he can do about it for now. </p><p>His body is exhausted, and Anakin is warm. Obi-Wan falls asleep. </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>